the ludicrous points of the poet's drawing-room haunting, ballad-singing life.

During his residence at Paris Moore became acquainted with la Comtesse de Flauhault, the authoress of "Adele de Sénanges,' "Emilie et Alphonse," and three other novels, one of which had just appeared. Moore rashly offered to review it in the "Edinburgh,' and of course immediately learned the true value of the maxim, "Never review a friend's book."

LA COMTESSE DE FLAUHAULT.

Madame de Souza, it appears, is much mortified at the article I have written, particularly at the extract I have made from her "Adéle de Senange." This is unlucky, I confess: I hesitated about the passage myself, but it was coupled with a fling at the proceedings against the Queen, and I could not bring myself to leave it out. Why did I break through the resolution I had formed, never to review the work of a friend?

The review appears in the "Edinburgh Review," Vol. XXXIV. p. 372, but we confess we cannot detect the fling at the proceedings against the Queen. The only extract given from "Adele de Senange" is this "Ådéle m'ecoutait avec une espèce de ravissement; elle etait si émue que lorsque j'eus cessé de parler, elle laissa tomber sa tête sur moi. Nos visages se touchèrent; nos larmes se confondirent, mes bras l'entouraient encore. Je la pressai contre mon cœur, en me promettant intérieurment de respecter en elle la femme de mon ami."

What this has to do with Queen Caroline the reader must be left to guess.

There is a morceau in this article which perhaps should not be lost: it is a translation by Moore of an absurd French poem he is noticing. He translates it thus

When the Deity saw what a world he had framed From the darkness of chaos, surprised and ashamed He turned from His work with disdain: Then gave it a kick, to complete its disgrace, Which sent it off spinning through infinite space And returned to his slumbers again, Saying, "Go and be," &c., &c. Rather strong this, Messrs Moore and Jeffrey! Of course we have a great deal about Lord Byron and his memoirs.

BYRON.

Byron introduced me to his Countess before we left La Mira: she is a blonde, and young; married only about a year, but not very pretty.

This puts me in mind of Lord Byron saying to me the other day, "What do you think of Shakspeare, Moore? I think him a damned humbug." Not the first time I have heard him speak slightingly of Shakspeare.

R. told me a good deal about Lord Byron, whom he saw both going and coming back. Expressed to R. the same contempt for Shakspeare which he had often expressed to me: treats his companion Shelley very cavalierly. By the bye, I find (by a letter received within these few days by Horace Smith), that Lord Byron shewed Shelley the letters I wrote on the subject of his "Cain," warning him against the influence Shelley's admiration might have over his mind, and deprecating that wretched display of atheism which Shelley had given in to, and in which Lord Byron himself seemed but too much inclined to follow him.

His reply to this, which he has also inclosed, and requested me (after reading it and taking a copy) to forward to Lady Byron, is as follows:

"Ravenna, April 3, 1820. "I received yesterday your answer dated March 10. My offer was an honest one, and surely could only be construed as such, even by the most malignant casuistry. I could answer you, but it is too late, and it is not worth while. To the mysterious menace of the last sentence, whatever its import may be and I cannot pretend to unriddle it-I could hardly be very sensible, even if I understood it, as, before it could take place I shall be however, to anticipate the period of your intention; for where nothing can touch him further... I advise you, be assured no power of figures can avail beyond the present; and if it could, I would answer with Florentine. Etio, che posto son con loro in croce

These Memoirs were, as is well known, destroyed by Moore, at the instigation of Hobhouse and Lady Byron, immediately after Byron's death. Lord John, who read the Memoirs, says the world has lost little by this breach of faith with the dead. Moore, who makes a mighty fuss about his pecuniary sacrifice in the matter, certainly lost very little, for after burning Byron's own life he wrote him another, for which he got rather more money. The only person who acted quite well in this matter appears to have been the late Mr. Murray, whose memory is, in our opinion, most unfairly attacked in these volumes. Murray advanced 2000l. for the copyright at a time when Byron might have lived for half a century, and rescinded the contract directly Moore asked him. Moore, however, had of course spent the money; and although he had too much society pride to like to take money of lords and ladies, he thinks it abominable that a publisher should charge him interest and stamps, and should want security for his 20007. At last it was discovered that the Memoirs thus destroyed by Moore, were at the time, by effect

of Lord Byron's will, the property of Mr. Murray. We can only say, that we wish we could testify to have received at the hands of a publisher of the present day one half the consideration and liberality which Murray shewed to Moore upon this occasion.

One question, however, we still must askWhat became of the copies of these Memoirs made in Paris by Dumoulin and Williams? The great charm of the volumes is the enormous quantity of table-talk they contain.

Madame de Coigny has a very bad voice. She said once, "Je n'ai qu'une voix contre moi; c'est la mienne."

66

The same lady, speaking of a dear friend. who had red hair, and all its attendant ill consequences," and of whom some one said she was very virtuous, remarked, "Oui, elle est comme Samson; elle a toutes ses forces dans ses cheveux."

Sheridan used to tell a story of one of his constituents saying to him, "Oh sir! things cannot go on in this way; there must be a reform in Parliament; we poor electors are not properly paid at all."

Lord John mentioned that Sydney Smith told him he had had an intention once of writing a book of maxims, but never got further than the following, "That generally towards the age of forty women get tired of being virtuous, and men of being honest."

Buonaparte said to one of his servile flatterers who was proposing to him a plan for remodelling the Institute, "Laissons au moins la Republique des lettres."

Voltaire, listening to an author who was reading to him his comedy, and said, "Ici le chevalier rit," exclaimed, "Il est bien heureux!"

We have a little string of beads, gathered one by one, by Moore from a note book of the historic Duke of Buckingham.

"I can as little live upon past kindness as the air can be warmed with the sunbeams of yesterday." "A woman whose mouth is like an old comb with a few broken teeth and a great deal of hair and dust about it." "Kisses are like grains of gold or silver found upon the ground, of no value themselves, but precious as shewing that a mine is near." "That man has not only a long face, but a tedious one." "One can no more judge of the true value of a man by the impression he makes on the public than we can tell whether the seal was gold or brass by which the stamp was made." "Men's fame is like their hair, which grows after they are dead, and with just as little use to them." "A sort of anti-blackamoor, every part of her white but her teeth." "A woman whose face was created without the preamble of 'Let there be light!'' "How few, like Danaë, have God and gold together."

Moore laments" that Lord John shewed to so little advantage in society from his extreme taciturnity, and, still more, from his apparent coldness and indifference to what is said by others;" and adds, "Several to whom he was introduced had been much disappointed in consequence of this manner. I can easily imagine

that to Frenchmen such reserve and silence must appear something quite out of the course of nature.' But a great many of the best anecdotes are nevertheless attributed to Lord John. Thus

Lord John mentioned of the late Lord Lansdowne (who was remarkable for the sententious and speech-like pomposity of his conversation) that, in giving his opinion one day of Lord —, he said, “I have a high opinion of his lordship's character. So remarkable do I think him for the pure and unbending integrity of his principles, that I look upon it as impossible he should ever be guilty of the slightest deviation from the line of rectitude, unless it were it most damnably well worth his while." Again

Lord John told us a good trick of Sheridan's upon Richardson. Sheridan had been driving out three or four hours in a hackney-coach, when, seeing Richardson pass, he hailed him, and made him get in. He instantly contrived to introduce a topic upon which Richardson (who was the very soul of disputatiousness) always differed with him, and at last, affecting to be mortified at Richardson's arguments, said, "You really are too bad. I cannot bear to listen to such things. I will not stay in the same coach with you," and accordingly got down and left him, Richardson hallooing out triumphantly after him, "Ah, you're beat, you're beat." Nor was it till the heat of his victory had a little cooled that he found out he was left in the lurch to pay for Sheridan's three hours' coaching.

Here are two more stories of Sheridan

66

Sheridan told me that his father, being a good deal plagued by an old maiden relation of his always going out to walk with him, said one day that the weather was bad and rainy, to which the old lady answered that, on the contrary, it had cleared up. "Yes," says Sheridan, "it has cleared up enough for one, but not for two." He mentioned, too, that Tom Stepney supposed algebra to be a learned language, and referred to his father to know whether it was not so, who said, "Certainly, Latin, By what people was it spoken?" Greek, and Algebra." "By the Algebrians, to be sure," said Sheridan." Met Kenny with Miss Holcroft, one of his examen domús, a fine girl. By-the-bye he told me yesterday evening (having joined in our walk) that Shaw, having lent Sheridan near 5007., used to dun him very considerably for it; and one day, when he had been rating Sheridan about the debt, and insisting that he must be paid, the latter having played off some of his plausible wheedling upon him, ended by saying that he was very much in want of 251. to pay the expenses of a journey he was about to take, and he knew Shaw would be good-natured enough to lend it to him. "Pon my word," says Shaw, "this is too bad; after keeping me out of my money in so shameful a manner, you now have the face to ask me for more; but it won't do: I must be paid my money, and it is most disgraceful," &c. &c. My dear fellow," says Sheridan, "hear reason; the sum you ask me for is a very considerable one, whereas I only ask you for five and twenty pounds."

Sidney Smith and Luttrel compared-Smith particularly amusing. Have rather held out against him hitherto, but this day he conquered me, and I now am his victim in the laughing way for life. His imagination of a duel between two doctors, with oil of croton on the tips of their fingers, trying to touch each other's

lips highly ludicrous. What Rogers says of Smith very

true, that whenever the conversation is getting dull he throws in some touch which makes it rebound and rise again as light as ever. Ward's artificial efforts, which to me are always painful, made still more so by the Luttrel, too, considerably extinguished to-day; but there contrast to Smith's natural and overflowing exuberance. is this difference between Luttrel and Smith, that after the

former you remember what good things he said, and after the latter you merely remember how much you laughed.

Music and Painting-Sharpe mentioned a curious instance of Walter Scott's indifference to pictures, when he met him at the Louvre, not willing to spare two or three minutes for a walk to the bottom of the gallery, when it was the first and last opportunity he was likely to have of seeing the " Transfiguration," &c. &c. In speaking of music, and the difference there is between the poetical and musical ear, Wordsworth said that he was totally devoid of the latter, and for a long time, could not distinguish one tune from another. Rogers thus described Lord Holland's feeling for the arts, "Painting gives him no pleasure, and music absolute pain."

We continue our gleanings.

Coleridge-A poor author, on receiving from his publisher an account of the proceeds (as he expected it to be) of a work he had published, saw among the items, "Cellarage, 37. 10s. 6d." He thought it was a charge for the trouble of selling the 700 copies, which he did not consider unreasonable; but, on inquiry, found it was for the cellar-room occupied by his work, not a copy of which had stirred from thence.

Sidney Smith-"I shall see Allen," says Smith, "some day with his tongue hanging out speechless, and shall take the opportunity to stick a few principles into him." 4

Mirabeau-Once, when Mirabeau was answering a speech of Maury, he put himself in a reasoning attitude, and said, "Je m'en vais renfermer, M. Maury, dans un circle vicieux." Upon which Maury started up, and exclaimed, "Comment! veux tu m'embrasser ?"

Jekyll-In talking of cheap living he mentioned a man who told him his eating cost him almost nothing, "for on Sunday," said he, "I always dine with my old friend, and then eat so much that it lasts until Wednesday, when I buy some tripe, which I hate like the very devil, and which accordingly makes me so sick that I cannot eat any more till Sunday again."

Rogers, on somebody remarking that Payne Knight had got very deaf, said, ""Tis from want of practice. Knight was always a very bad listener."

Scroope Davies called some person who had a habit of puffing out his cheeks when he spoke, and was not remarkable for veracity, "The AEolian lyre."

Talleyrand-Bobus Smith one day, in conversation with Talleyrand, having brought in somehow the beauty of his mother, Talleyrand said, "C'était donc votre père qui n'était pas bien."

The Prince de Poix was stopped by a sentry, and announced his name. "Prince de Poix!" answered the sentry, "quand vous seriez le Roi des Haricots vous ne passeriez pas par ici."

An old acquaintance-"Is your master at home?""No, Sir, he's out." "Your mistress?"-"No, sir, she's out.' "Well, I'll just go in and take an air of the fire till they come"- Faith, Sir, that 's out too."

Another-A fellow in the Marshalsea having heard his companion brushing his teeth the last thing at night, and then, upon waking, at the same work in the morning "Ogh! a weary night you must have had of it, Mr. Fitzgerald."

George the Fourth gave a drawing-room. Rogers said that he was in himself a sequence-King, queen, and knave.

When E. Nagles came to George the Fourth with the news of Buonaparte's death, he said, "I have the pleasure to tell your Majesty that your bitterest enemy is dead." "No! is she, by Gad?" said the King.

Cure for love-Mrs. Dodwell's husband used to be a great favourite with the Pope, who always called him Caro Doodle." His first addresses were paid to Vittoria Odescalchi, but he jilted her; and she had six masses said to enable her soul to get over its love for him. Talleyrand-One day, when Davoust excused himself for being too late because he had met with a "Pekin"

who delayed him, Talleyrand begged to know what he meant by that word. "Nous appellons Pekin," says Davoust, tout ce qui n'est pas militaire." "Oh, oui c'est comme chez nous," replied Talleyrand, "nous appellons militaire tout ce qui n'est pas civil."

Adam Smith and Johnson-This account of the meeting between Adam Smith and Johnson is given by Smith himself. Johnson began by attacking Hume. "I saw, said Smith," this was meant at me, so I merely put him right as to a matter of fact." "Well, what did he say?" "He said it was a lie." "And what did you say to that?" "I told him he was a son of a b-h." Good, this, between two sages.

Sheridan (when there was some proposal to lay a tax upon milestones)-"It is an unconstitutional tax, as they are a race that cannot meet to remonstrate."

Denon told an anecdote of a man who, having been asked repeatedly to dinner by a person whom he knew to be but a shabby Amphitryon, went at last, and found the dinner so meagre and bad that he did not get a bit to eat. When the dishes were removing the host said, "Well, now the ice is broken, I suppose you will ask me to dine with you some day." "Most willingly." "Name your day, then." "Aujourd'hui, par exemple," answered the dinnerless guest. Lord Holland told of a man remarkable for absence, who, dining once at the same sort of shabby repast, fancied himself in his own house, and began to apologise for the wretchedness of the dinner.

Fielding told us that when Gouvion St. Cyr, in the beginning of the Revolution happened to go to some bureau (for a passport, I believe) and gave his name Monsieur de Saint Cyr, the clerk answered, "Il n'y a pas de De. Eh bien! M. Saint Cyr. Il n'y a pas de Saint. Diable! M. Cyr, donc. Il n'y a pas de Sire: nous avons décapité le tyran."

Cope mentioned a good specimen of English-French, and the astonishment of the French people who heard it, not conceiving what it could mean "Si je fais, je fais; mais si je fais, je suis un Hollandais." "If I do, I do; but if I do, I'm a Dutchman."

Scott says, "Lord Byron is getting fond of money. He keeps a box, into which he occasionally puts sequins: he has now collected about 300, and his great delight (Scott tells me) is to open his box and contemplate his store."

Scott shewed me a woman whom Buonaparte pronounced to be the finest woman in Venice, and the Venetians, not agreeing with him, call her "La Bella per Decreto," adding (as all the decrees begin with Considerando), "Ma senza il considerando."

Ghosts-Talking of ghosts, Sir Adam said that Scott and he had seen one, at least: while they were once drinking together, a very hideous fellow appeared suddenly between them, whom neither knew any thing about, but whom both saw. Scott did not deny it, but said they were both "fou," and not very capable of judging whether it was a ghost or not. Scott said that the only two men who had ever told him that they had actually seen a ghost afterwards put an end to themselves. One was Lord Castlereagh, who had himself mentioned to Scott his seeing the "radiant boy." It was one night when he was in barracks, and the face brightened gradually out of the fire place, and approached him. Lord Castlereagh stepped forwards to it, and it receded again, and faded into the same place.

It is generally stated to have been an apparition attached to the family, and coming occasionally to presage honours and prosperity to him before whom it appeared; but Lord Castlereagh gave no such account of it to Scott. It was the Duke of Wellington made Lord Castlereagh tell the story to Sir Walter, and Lord C. told it without hesitation, and as if believing in it implicitly.

These two volumes are a complete mine of table-talk. There is abundance of the same ore in the place whence we brought these specimens.

South of Tripoli lies the territory of Fezzan, extending some 400 miles in a southerly direction, and about 280 in width: its capital is Moorzuk, and a Mr. Gagliuffi is the British Consul there. Before leaving Tripoli, Mr. Richardson had written to that gentleman, requesting him to procure an escort of Tuaricks, and also the attendance of the neighbouring Sheikhs, for the discussion of a treaty to be submitted to their consideration. Izhet Pasha and the Bey of Tunis had provided the travellers with a circular letter addressed to the chieftains of all the Turkish provinces of Tripoli and Fezzan; but Mr. Richardson and his companions relied chiefly on their own tact, the good-will of the natives, and that vague respect for English power which is already spreading even throughout the sandy ocean of the Sahara. Not the least important of the members of the present caravan was the interpreter, one Yusuf Moknee (son of the late Governor of Fezzan); his only vice seems to have been a strong attachment to the bottle; but before starting he signed a contract promising to be a pattern of sobriety! He is a handsome, darkfeatured fellow, and is represented as making a respectable figure, arrayed in a blue robe, white burnoose, and elegant fez. Two chaouches, or janissaries, were also engaged, as well as a number of free blacks from Tunis-some married, others not-who were on their way to their homes in Soudan, Bornou, and Mandara. Of these, some agreed to travel, chiefly on their own account, the rest being paid, and officiating as servants. The camel-drivers, and a marabout who accompanied them, were from Fezzan. The average progress of such a caravan is not more than two-and-a-half miles per hour; and an arduous march of twelve hours, under the most auspicious circumstances, only shows an advance of thirty miles from the last resting-place. The trading caravans from the Mediterranean shores to Wadaï, Bornou, Soudan, and Timbuctoo, pursue four different routes across the belt of populous country that extends on either side of the tropic of Cancer.

Wadaï sends to Bengazi, a port of Tripoli, twice yearly, a large number of slaves, elephants' tusks, and ostrich feathers: this route has not yet been opened more than seventy or eighty years. From Bornou, viâ Fezzan, slaves are the chief commodity. Soudan exports slaves, ivory, indigo, wax, hides, and senna. The greater part of this traffic is of recent origin, and consists chiefly of legitimate articles of barter. Thus, wax was first sent about twenty years since, ivory eighteen, and indigo, for the first time, as lately as 1844. The caravans from Timbuctoo bear little besides gold and a little ivory and wax, but no slaves. The merchants, for convenience of transport, beat the gold into rudely-fashioned rings, and con

The Gha

ceal them about their persons. damsee merchants, who formerly embarked twothirds of their capital in human merchandise, have now but a fourth of their capital employed in that manner. This is owing partly to the abolition of the Tunisian slave-market, and the increase of other objects of commerce in Soudan, such as cassia, gum-dragon, and senna.

Mr. Richardson, mounted on a donkey, left Masheeah, a suburb of Tripoli, at six on the morning of the 30th of March, Drs. Barth and Overweg, with a portion of the caravan, having previously started. After the delay of a day, caused by heavy rain, the party encamped at the foot of the Gharian mountains. The ascent of this portion of the Tripoline Atlas was not accomplished without considerable difficulty, the caravan, with its broken groups of various colours, dotting the steep acclivity. The foremost camels occasionally halting and complaining in piteous accents, bring the whole cavalcade to a sudden halt. A storm of blows, a shower of stones and execrations, and loud cries of "Isa! Isa!" urge the gaunt beasts forward once more. The track lies through sparse forests of olive, studded here and there with patches of wheat and barley. At the hour of three in the afternoon they reach the castle of Gharian, a picturesque structure overhanging a deep ravine, but commanded by a mountain in its rear. The plain just traversed was enveloped in mist, and the minarets of Tripoli appeared not through the northern haze. The barren sides of the surrounding hills are here and there cleft by deep gullies, from which, at distant intervals, little tufts of verdure spring, indicating the grateful presence of a mountain rill. The castle was garrisoned by 200 men, under Colonel Saleh, who hospitably entertained the travellers with coffee, lemonade, and pipes.

In this African canton, architecture is decidedly at a discount, for not the vestige of a hut is to be discerned in any direction, the inhabitants dwelling entirely under ground: but they are, nevertheless, healthy and cleanly in their appearance. Their Moslem rulers have little difficulty in retaining them in utter subjection, for they are completely disarmed, and weapons and ammunition of all kinds are strictly prohibited. Those who are entrusted with the collection of the revenue are in the habit of punishing defaulters with death: so that, although no "house-tax" can well be levied in this land, it has other and more substantial désagrèmens.

Leaving the castle of Gharian behind, the caravan proceeded in a south-westerly direction, through groves of olive and fig-trees, masses of arid rock alternating in the landscape with cultivated slopes, decked with fresh and brilliant vegetation. Many of the heights that were passed displayed the ruins of an Arab castle fast crumbling to decay. After passing